Awkward
by umuhh
Summary: Alec has a trouble talking to boys. Can he stop stumbling over his words long enough to get Magnus to notice him? AU/AH. Malec.
1. Chapter 1 - Boxes

_Author Note: I wanted to try writing something fluffy in comparison to my horror fic. This is going to be a pretty short story. Alec's a bit neurotic in this AU. Thanks for reading._

_Characters belong to Cassandra Clare._

* * *

Chapter One – Boxes

It took a long time to work up the courage to go into the coffee shop. My hands are shaking and I get worried that the sound of the crinkling paper is going to disturb everyone. I try to steady my hand by focusing on it, but it just seems to make it worse.

I stand in the doorway for a while, stepping out of people's way as they go in and out. I think about just walking over to the bulletin board, but my feet stay glued to the floor. I think about going to the cashier and ordering a smoothie, but that thought just makes my hands shake harder.

I decide to post the damn thing. That's the most painless way to do this. I wish that Isabelle hadn't convinced me to do this. I think about just turning around walking away. But I can't do that. The online ad hasn't gotten very many views, let alone responses, so I have to look other places. I stare longingly at the bulletin board across the shop.

I take in a deep breath, and walk over to it. I keep my eyes on the floor until I'm at the board. No one gets in my way, thank god. There's a bunch of push pins sitting at the corner of the board and I grab two. I find a space between the flyers and stick up my ad.

I'm getting my own place soon. I have a pretty great chance at getting it, too. I just don't have all the money I need to keep the damn place. My friend, Jace, was supposed to move in with me, but he dropped out to move in with his girlfriend. I wasn't going to admit to him that I was mad, and a bit jealous. Not to mention stressed. I wish he had decided it all sooner.

I sigh and turn to leave. I hoped that a nice girl or someone would answer the ad soon and I could move in, before someone else snatches up the place.

I nearly bump into someone. I feel my throat go tight, and my heart races. This isn't going to go well.

I look up into two, very pretty, orange-yellow eyes.

He smiles at me. "Sorry, didn't mean to nearly knock you over."

I shrug, my lips turning to wibbling, useless things.

"What'd you post up?" he steps past me and goes over to the bulletin board. I watch him, my feet refusing to move. He's got spiky black hair, and I think I see spray glitter or something like it tousled in there. He's wearing nice clothes—a purple shirt that looks like it's made of nice material—and he's got a coffee in one of his hands. He's slender and handsomely pretty—one of those boys I'll never talk to.

I hold my breath as he reads my ad.

"Are you looking for a roommate?" he turns to me. "This is yours, right?"

I try to smile, but it doesn't work. My arms feel heavy at my sides. I shrug. Then nod. Awkwardly.

He smiles, hardly looking thrown off. He's probably just being polite.

"Great," he pulls one of the little tear-away strips from the bottom of the flyer with my number written on it. "I'll give you a call then."

I'm pinned to the spot where I stand with shock. That was all it took to get a roommate? One I didn't even want. He gives me that pretty smile and moves past me. He walks to the door, sipping his coffee. He tucks my number into his pocket. I don't move until he's out on the street, disappearing around the corner.

I let out the breath I'm holding and shuffle as fast as I can to the door.

_Calm down, Alec. He can't be the only person who's looking for a roommate. You have other flyers to put up. More people will call you. Not-cute-boys will want to live with you and everything will be fine._

* * *

I've had three calls since I spent a weekend putting up ads. One from a guy that reminded me of a surfer—decidedly someone I wasn't going to get along with, too vapid and too... male—one from a woman twice my age, and one from the coffee shop guy. Apparently his name's Magnus. And apparently he's the only real candidate to be my roommate.

I had put off calling him too long. I had wanted to wait for more calls, ideally from women and from people my own age. But no one had called.

I hated to admit it, but Magnus was the only one that seemed like a good fit. He was charming and polite on the phone. He didn't seem to mind that I had only answered him in monosyllabic noises and short, clipped answers (that Isabelle had to coach out of me). He seemed nice. He was also damn attractive. That would be tough to get past, but what else could I do?

If only I wasn't so awkward.

I'm so awkward I can't talk to people. I literally clench up and I can't talk. I went to a counsellor for a while to deal with it, but I had a panic attack during my second session and Mom pulled me out. I still don't know if that was the best decision. Mom says I've improved, but I still don't think I have. There are still three kinds of people I can't talk to:

Dad,

cashiers,

and boys.

So this new roommate thing wasn't going to be a walk in the park. I have no idea how I was going to talk to him. But Mom and Dad wanted me to move out already, and I didn't want to lose my dream apartment.

I was stuck living with an attractive guy I was too awkward to talk to... Great.

* * *

Izzy came over to help me build my bed and carry the last of my boxes in. She helps me unload the rest of my boxes from the back of the car, and we lug them upstairs.

The place is gorgeous. Hard wood floors, a huge picture window overlooking the city, soft warm lighting. Golden yellow painted walls. An island counter sitting across from the kitchen, a bathroom with a great shower, and two spacious bedrooms. My dream apartment.

And it's covered in boxes.

"You're way too over prepared for this," she says, looking around at my new place from the centre of the main room. I shrug. I saved up a lot of money to make sure that I had a fully stocked kitchen, cleaning supplies, bathroom supplies, and all the furniture I thought I needed. I hadn't wanted to go into this unprepared. If Jace hadn't dropped out at the last minute, I would have saved up enough to pay rent myself.

"When's the guy moving in?" she asks, opening some boxes.

I shrug again. "He said sometime before six."

"How very specific of him," she shakes her head. We start unloading some stuff. "Do you want me to hang around to translate for you?"

"No," I grumble, and wonder if I'm going to regret it. But the last thing I want is for my sister to watch me flub over some hot guy. The teasing will never end after that.

"You gonna be okay?" she asks. She knows that I have trouble talking to other guys, and she basically knows why. Like I said, I don't want to put up with the teasing.

I nod. "I'll be fine. Worse comes to worse, I'll just hide in my room or something."

She bumps me with her hip, "You embarrassed?"

My sister knows me too well. She's someone I don't have trouble talking to.

"No," I huff. She snickers and carries a box of my books into my bedroom.

"We should set up your bed," she calls to me, "So then you and your roommate can jump right in!"

"Isabelle!" I shout, going red.

I hear a laugh behind me and turn on my heel. This guy's great at sneaking up on me.

Magnus stands in the doorway, his hair looking more natural and a lot less sparkly. He's carrying a box in his arms and he has a couple of bags slung over his shoulder. He's wearing more nice clothes. He looks great, to keep it short. And he's smiling at me, and I can't smile back because I'm blushing too much.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to jump your bones yet," he says, putting down his box on the nearest table. I get stuck on that "yet" he added. I hurriedly turn away and grab a box and haul it into my room.

Isabelle turns. "Why are you bringing the cultery in here?"

I blink at her and look at the box. I scowl, and she tries to stifle a giggle. I drag the box back into the main room and drop it on the island counter. Magnus grins over at me from where he's unpacking some pillows and throwing them on the couch I bought. I can't help but stare at him for a little bit, and then realize he's still looking back at me while I do it. I blush and go to find another box that actually belongs in my room.

Isabelle's still giggling.

"Shut up," I croak and it's barely a whisper. I don't want Magnus to hear from the other room.

She pats my back understandingly and goes to get more stuff.

I get to pushing my shelves up against the walls, and shoving the boxes of books over that way too. I find the instructions for building my bed and pull out all the pieces. Everyone has always complained about IKEA instructions, but I find them easy to follow. I get to building the parts I can put together myself.

"Need some help?"

I open my mouth to answer and stop mid syllable when I realize that it's not Isabelle standing in the doorway. Magnus wiggles his fingers at me.

"Cat got your tongue?"

I don't know what to do, so I shrug. He seems to take that as an invitation, and walks over to the bed and takes the instructions to look them over.

"How do you read these? I can never figure them out," he says, smiling and shaking his head. I shrug and finish putting one of the legs onto the frame. He starts with the next one.

"Is this your first time living away from home?" he asks.

I nod.

"You don't talk much, do you?" he says.

I shrug.

"Right. Do you want me to leave?"

I want desperately to open my mouth and tell him something comforting. All that comes out is a squeak and I falter. He nods and stands up, brushing off his hands.

"I'll, uh, leave you to it. I'll get started on my room, I suppose. See you, Alec."

He leaves.

And I want to shove my foot in my mouth, because, well, what would be the damn difference?


	2. Chapter 2 - Nope

Chapter Two – Nope

The next few days suck.

I spend most of my time avoiding Magnus and trying to act normal. I think he's still convinced that I don't want to talk to him. It just reminds me of Dad or even Mom.

Once we got everything unpacked, I kind of left Magnus to organize the living room the way he wanted it. I planned to make my adjustments when he wasn't around, and hoped he wouldn't be too upset about it. I found that the longer I was around him, the more anxious I felt.

I wanted things to go painlessly. That's all.

I didn't see him in the evenings because he was usually out with friends, and I was usually the first out the door in the morning to get to my job. We bumped into each other at weird times throughout the days. I hid in my room a lot.

It was nerve wracking to walk past him on my way to the kitchen when I needed to make a meal. It was weird sharing a bathroom with him. And I felt super guilty whenever he tried to start up a conversation and I just... couldn't.

Overall, my first few days in my dream apartment were terrible.

I wake up Friday morning and peek out of my room to see if Magnus is out and about. The kitchen and living room are empty, except for Magnus' cat staring me down from the sofa. I don't know if Chairman Meow really likes me, but he seems to tolerate me pretty well. I scuttle off to the bathroom.

Like I said, it's weird sharing a bathroom with Magnus. He leaves lots of clothes lying around, and his beauty produces take up a lot space. He once asked if it bothered me and I just shrugged. Truth be told, it did bother me just a little bit. I never knew if I was supposed to clean it up or leave it. If I moved anything, I always put it back exactly as I'd found it.

I hop into the shower and try to let go of all the tension. I feel it a lot in my shoulders. I'm so tense all the time these days. I wonder if it's going to do anything terrible to my health. Probably. I sigh and throw some shampoo into my hand. I lather up my hair and try to focus on a good scalp massage.

There's a knock on the door and I nearly lose my footing.

"Hey, mind if I get in there for a second? The queen needs his eyeliner," Magnus purrs through the door.

I open my eyes and squeak. _That's not a response, Alec!_ I chide myself. I gulp and try to say something again. I don't want him in here. The frosted glass of the shower will probably keep me dignified, but he can still see a blurry outline of me. Naked me. Oh good god.

"Okay I'm coming in," he opens the door and I want to die. I can see a Magnus shaped smudge on the other side of the foggy, frosted glass, moving toward the sink. I hear the mirror cabinet open. "Don't worry, I've got a hand over my eyes. Your naked butt is safe."

I want to _die_ of embarrassment. I want to just slip in the shower and die. I try to focus on scrubbing the suds out of my hair and wait for the sound of the door closing.

"Found it," Magnus announces. "Sorry to bust in on you like this."

He ducks out and closes the door.

I let out a shaky breath. The tension is going to kill me, I swear. And it's not going to be painless.

The shower incident isn't the last invasion of personal space Magnus gives me.

The next morning, I'm sitting at the island counter, eating some breakfast. I sip my coffee and read a book I've been meaning to look through for ages.

Magnus walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel and I nearly drop my coffee cup.

He shoots me a smile, "Mind if I steal some bacon there?"

I blink at him, pulling my book onto my lap. He smirks and walks past, snagging a piece of bacon off my plate. He disappears into his room.

I'm so flustered, I don't even care that he stole my last piece of bacon. I realize it's not as bad as him walking into the bathroom while I'm in the shower, but I'm still embarrassed. The guy really doesn't care about nakedness. It's weird. We'd only just met. I wasn't even comfortable taking off my shirt around Jace, and we'd known each other since we were kids.

Still, I can't get the image of Magnus in a towel out of my head. I can't concentrate on my book after that, so I chug the rest of my coffee and head out for work.

A few days later, it gets worse.

It's a little after one in the morning, and I'm lying in bed awake. I have trouble sleeping sometimes because my mind gets in a big loop of things to do. I worry about the next rent payment, about seeing Mom and Dad, about assignments from work. Lately I've been worrying about running into Magnus, and trying to devise a way to avoid him in the mornings and in the evenings.

I've come up with nothing that isn't horribly inconvenient. I sigh and pull the covers up over my head. I've looked up breathing techniques but I have trouble with them. I'm just that awkward. I try them, but the stale under-covers air stops me. I sigh again.

It takes a while, but slowly I start drifting off to sleep.

Then I hear my door open and I'm wide awake. My heart races. Is that Magnus? Is he in trouble? Am I in trouble? I'm about to sit up and find out, but I feel someone flop into bed beside me.

I freeze up.

I peek out from under my covers and see Magnus lying beside me. He has his back facing me. His back is broad, and his waist is slender. He's close enough that I can smell him, and he smells nice. What the hell is he doing?

He rolls over and I want to run away. His pretty eyes are closed, his hair is messy. He sighs, sleepy, and the smell of alcohol wafts over my way. I cringe. Great. He's drunk and asleep in my bed. I can't say anything to make him leave.

I'm tempted to shake him, but I'm too scared. I just stare at him and hope he'll wake up, realize he's in the wrong bed, and leave. He lets out another tired breath, and his eyelashes bat. He's so pretty.

I realize I'm blushing and my stomach feels like it's full of butterflies. And I know why.

Oh no.

Nope.

I decide that I'm going to spend the night on the couch. I start shifting to get out of bed but stop when something flops down on my chest. I look over and realize that it's Magnus's hand, draped across me. I think I might die. I don't know what to do—I can't move but I need to get away at the same time.

His fingers gently close around my shirt. I feel like my heart is going to explode.

No one's ever touched me like this before. Not this tenderly.

Magnus mutters something into my pillow. I barely catch it, but I think he says, "Don't go."

This has to be a joke. He's about to sit up, look me in the face and start laughing. He's going to make fun of me for getting so flustered about him holding my stupid shirt. And he's going to go tell his friends about his neurotic, gay ass roommate. I just want to shove him away and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night.

This isn't funny, it's just sad.

His hand lets go of my shirt and slides across my ribs, making me shiver, before flopping down on the bed. He lets out another sleepy sigh and snuggles up. I wait for him to start laughing.

He doesn't. He seems to go to sleep.

I crawl out of bed, shaking. I'm just about to go to the door when Magnus mumbles, "Alec?"

I stop and turn, completely caught off guard, "What?"

I clamp my hands over my mouth. Magnus has his head lifted up and he's blinking at me blearily.

"You talk?" he slurs.

I squeak through my fingers. Then I turn and leave.

I lock myself in the bathroom and hyperventilate for a good portion of the night. Eventually, I fall asleep with my back against the door.

* * *

_Author Note: Wow! Thanks for all the great feedback, guys. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved or followed this so far. I don't think all updates will come this quick, but I did a bunch of writing this morning, so I have a good buffer. Glad to know people are enjoying this. Thanks for reading._


	3. Chapter 3 - Uncomfortable

Chapter 3 - Uncomfortable

The next morning, I wake up before Magnus. I check on him and he's still passed out in my bed, my sheets tangled up his legs. He's drooling on my pillow and he still looks gorgeous. I try not to stare at him too long, and quickly grab some clothes from my room. I get ready and leave for work before he can wake up.

I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to bring up what happened if he asks.

I don't want to be near him, because not talking is just going to hurt.

Once I'm finished work, I decide to put off going to the apartment by visiting Isabelle.

Mom opens the door, "Oh, hi Alec."

I smile awkwardly. "Hi Mom," I say but it's too quiet.

She looks hurt and lets me inside. It's weird being home again, even though I've only been gone for about a week. Everything feels different, but familiar. Mom leads me into the kitchen, offering tea or coffee. I feel like such an adult and it's weird.

We pass the living room and I can see Max sitting on the couch, reading a manga. He looks up at me with his big glasses and grins. I smile and wave. He leaps off the couch.

"Alec! You're back!" He can't seem to stop smiling, and I smile back at him.

"Yeah, but I'm just visiting," I say. I think it's a normal volume, but it's probably quieter than most people. "What have you been up to?"

He follows me into the kitchen and we sit at the table. It's clean, like usual. The place mats are piled in the corner for when everyone gathers for dinner. The kitchen is spotless, except for some dishes in the drying rack. Just like usual. It's nice to be home for a while. There's a lot less tension in my shoulders.

Max tells me about his week. Not very many people listen to him, I think. He's a lot younger than me and Isabelle, and Mom and Dad are usually busy with their work. He usually talks a lot with me because I don't do much to shush him. Being quiet is good with people who like to talk. I seem like I'm listening, even when I'm not. I like talking to Max anyways, it's comfortable, and there aren't that many expectations.

"So..." Max looks down at the table and starts twiddling his thumbs. It's weird, I don't usually see him this bashful. He looks up at me, obviously embarrassed, "How do you talk to girls?"

"Talk to girls?" I say slowly.

"You know, like, say you really _like_ like a girl. And you want to go on a date with her. What do you say?" Max looks at me like I have every answer in the world. Mom, who's been listening and working on dinner, looks over at me too.

My stomach drops. Sure, I've talked to girls. I'm comfortable talking to girls. I have lots of friends that are girls. But I've never asked a girl out. I've never asked anyone out. I've just never been interested in dating a girl. I've tried to make myself like girls, but it just never felt right. And Mom doesn't know any of that.

I shrug. If Mom wasn't staring at me, I'd probably say more.

"Just..." I clear my throat. It feels tight and my voice squeaks, "Say how you feel about her."

It sounds lame. Max should be asking Jace—he knows all about talking to girls and then some. I don't really know why he's asking me. Jace would be tell him about all the finesse and charm it takes to win a girl's heart. Admittedly, Max is still in grade school and I don't think he needs to win anyone's heart just yet, but Jace would still be more help than me.

Max nods, and he looks a little disappointed that I don't have more to say, "Okay. I guess I could do that."

"You have a crush?" Mom brings over the tea. She sits down next to Max and ruffles his hair. Max pushes his hair back into place, frowning at her.

"No," he mutters.

"Alright but if you ever want to invite her over, that's perfectly okay," Mom smiles.

I smile too. I let go of some of the tension that crept up on me while I thought about Max's question. Mom's still Mom, and it's good to see her.

I dread going back to my apartment.

"How's your new place?" Mom turns her attention back to me. Some of the tension comes back. "Is your roommate nice?"

I clear my throat and shrug. "It's good. He's... nice."

"Is he a friend from school?" she asks, pouring herself a cup of tea.

I shake my head.

"Oh? Where did you meet him?"

"He answered Alec's online ad," I turn and see Izzy strut through the door. She's with Jace, and Jace's girlfriend, Clary. Izzy continues, "He's a total hottie, too."

I blush.

"Oh?" Mom says, putting her mug of tea down. She gives Isabelle a look.

"I still haven't met him, but with a name like Magnus, he's probably a hottie," Jace chimes in. "Hey, Maryse, hey Max."

I want to just crawl under the table and hide. Can we _please_ stop talking about Magnus? I came home to escape him. I pour milk into my tea and try to pretend I'm not here.

Jace claps me on the back, "Haven't seen you in a while. How'd the move go?"

"Good," I say, shrugging. I realize, looking at him, I'm still a bit pissed that he dropped out on me. I glance at Clary, "How'd yours go?"

"Fantastic," Jace says, smiling at Clary. She smiles back. They're so in love, it makes me uncomfortable. "We've been screwing like rabbits."

"Jace!" she hits his arm, but she's grinning.

Mom frowns. "Jace, mind your manners in front of Max."

Max shrugs, "It's okay, Mom."

Clary's blushing a little. "_Anyways,_ the move went great. We just finished unpacking everything we can fit, and we were thinking of going shopping for some kitchen stuff. Do you want to come with us, Alec?"

I shrug, "Okay..." I can't really think of much I need, but I could use a break.

"We'll pick you up Wednesday after you're done work," Jace says.

Izzy shakes her head, "I'm so jealous of you three. Moved out and on your own already."

"Living at home isn't _that_ horrible," Mom says, smiling. I can't tell if she minds us talking about this stuff. She was a bit sad when I started talking about moving out, but it was the next step for me. I was finished school, and I don't have any college aspirations for the moment.

"I _know,_" Izzy says, "But it's exciting."

I think about going back to the apartment and I wish it was still exciting. Now it just gives me a feeling of dread and embarrassment.

"Would it be okay if I stayed for dinner?" I ask, quietly. It's easier to talk with both Isabelle and Jace here.

"Of course," Mom says, looking concerned, "You don't ever have to ask for a dinner invitation here, you're always welcome to join us."

I nod, "Thanks, Mom."

"You should come every weekend," Max says.

I smile, "Sure."

Mom invites Jace and Clary to stay for dinner. I hang out and talk a bit with everyone until dinner, when Dad gets home.

Over dinner, he asks me about how work is going. I work as an assistant at an office—I managed to get a co-op placement there in my senior year, and they hired me when I was finished school. It's a busy job, with lots of filing and paperwork, but it lets me be pretty quiet most of the time. People like one word answers, it makes them feel important. I tell Dad that it's going well.

He asks about the apartment and I tell him it's good. He nods and we don't say much to each other for the rest of dinner.

Dad's hard to talk to, he's pretty quiet himself. If we're not talking about our work, we don't really talk at all. And even then, my answers are usually one or two words. And they're hard to say.

* * *

Isabelle drives me home after dinner.

"Have you said two words to this Magnus guy yet?" she asks.

"No," I sigh. I'm not going to tell her about Magnus crawling into bed with me. "He makes me uncomfortable."

"How?"

"He's... He has no shame," I say. "He walks around naked."

"He does?" Her whole face lights up. "Can I come live with you?"

I scowl at her. "I mean he walks around _half _naked. And he walked in on me in the shower. Nothing bothers him."

"I think you need to loosen up a bit," Isabelle says. "So what if he likes showing off his body? You're a bit of a prude, Alec."

"I know," I huff.

She pulls up along the curb across from my apartment. Before I go to open the door, she turns and looks at me. "Alec."

"What?" I'm nervous about the look she's giving me.

"Do you like Magnus?"

I swallow a lump in my throat. "Nope."

She gives me another look. "Alexander, I think you _like_ Magnus."

I scowl at her, "I do not."

"You blush every time we talk about him," she says.

"I blush about everything."

"Not this much."

I want her to stop talking about it. I don't want to have a crush on my roommate. I don't want a crush on anyone. If I could talk, it would be fine. But I can't.

I blink hard because I think I might start crying like an idiot. Isabelle sighs. I hope she can't see my face in the dim evening light.

"You need to come out of your shell a bit, Alec," she says, "That's all."

If I could, I would. But it's not that easy. She sounds like Dad.

I shrug and get out of her car.

The trudge up the stairs to the fifth floor is hard. I want to lie down in my bed and never get up. But I have this horrible dread that Magnus is still going to be in my bed when I get there.

But he's not. He's not even home.

* * *

_Author Note: Since it's no secret, I'm writing Alec as if he had selective mutism and a lot of social anxiety. I hope I'm treating that stuff with dignity, and feel free to tell me if I'm not. uwu Once again, thanks for all the great feedback. Thanks for reading._


	4. Chapter 4 - Cold Shoulder

Chapter Four – Cold Shoulder

I'm sitting on the couch the next morning, eating breakfast and doing some reading. I still haven't run into Magnus and it's freaking me out. I'm just waiting for him to waltz in.

Chairman Meow is sitting on one of the chairs across from me. When I look at him, he growls and hisses. I concentrate on not incurring the cat's wrath and bury my nose in my book.

The next time I look up, Magnus is sitting across from me, Chairman Meow sitting in his lap. I freeze, gripping my book tightly in my hands. I can feel my palms sweating. I want to look away, but I'm not sure that would be less awkward.

I want to run away.

I hope he doesn't bring up the bed thing.

"I have a question," Magnus says slowly. He scritches behind the cat's ear. I think it's the first time I've seen it purr.

I wait for him to continue. I wonder if I've blinked in the minute or so we've been staring at one another. I don't think I have. He must think I'm such a freak.

"Did I do anything the other night?"

I blink finally.

He grins, "I didn't do anything inappropriate, right? I was kind of drunk... I don't remember much."

I'm pretty relieved to hear that. He didn't see me embarrass myself, he doesn't remember grabbing my shirt, and he doesn't remember me talking. And part of me is a little upset that he doesn't remember any of it. But I can't let myself think like that.

"Oh god, what did I do?" Magnus has an expression on his face that's a mixture of mortified and amused. He looks like he's trying not to smile.

I blush, and shake my head. I want to tell him that he didn't do anything. I shake my head again. I give him a reassuring smile, or as close as I can manage.

He laughs, sounding a little relieved. "Good. I wouldn't want you uncomfortable or anything."

And once again, I can't tell if he's making fun of me or not. I want to assume that he isn't, but it's hard.

"Sorry for taking your bed anyways," he says, "I hope I didn't strand you on the couch."

I shrug and make a nonchalant noise. I wonder how he'd react if he found out I'd holed myself up in the bathroom all night.

He grins. "If I ever do that again, you're free to take my bed, you know."

I shrug, my face hot. I don't think I'd ever take his bed. It would be too weird. I would probably spend the night worried he'd walk in the next morning and be upset that I was taking his room.

Magnus eyes me carefully.

"Is it weird for me to ask about the no talking thing?" he says. "It's not due to some horrible tragedy in your past, right?"

I blink, a bit thrown off. I shake my head, confused. Nothing really horrible has happened to me in my life. I'm not on great terms with my parents, I guess, but who is? I just... it's hard to talk to people when there's an expectation of saying the right thing. I can't really convey this to him, so I just shake my head again.

"_Can_ you talk?"

He definitely doesn't remember anything from the other night. I think out my answer, and then nod. I might as well not lie.

"When do you?"

I don't know how to tell him without writing it down or doing some goofy hand gestures, so I shrug. I get a gross feeling in my stomach, and I just want to crawl behind the couch to hide.

He gives a little sigh, and I can tell he's frustrated. He pets Chairman Meow a little too hard, and the cat gets off his lap. I feel bad. And then I realize with a bit of giddiness, that despite the terrible way this conversation seems to be ending, I was momentarily _comfortable_ around him. I don't exactly know what it means. Maybe I was just caught off guard.

He eyes me wearily. I fidget with my book. I shrug again.

I wish I had some way to talk to him.

"Whatever," he says. He runs a hand through his hair. "I won't keep bothering you about it."

He gets up, and walks off to make his own breakfast. He seems a lot more cold. His shoulders are stiff, and he looks... mad. Or hurt.

I slump in my seat. _Great job, Alec. I think that's your all time record in scaring someone off._

I look over and Chairman Meow's reclaimed his place on the chair. He hisses at me. I grab my book and finish getting ready for work. Magnus ignores me.

* * *

It takes a day or two of working up the courage. I nearly talk myself out of it several times. Finally, I sit down in front of my computer and get started.

I'm going to write him a letter.

It's going to explain everything. It'll be an apology for not talking, and it will explain _why_ I don't talk. It'll explain that I'm a nervous wreck around everyone, not just him, and that I want us to get along while we're living together. It will be perfect and it will make all my problems go away.

I stare at the screen and my hands are shaking.

I can't do it.

I know it's stupid. I'm putting too much expectation on this. But it's hard not to. I'm tired of Magnus giving me the cold shoulder, and I'm tired of being so anxious all the time. All I have to do is write a stupid letter and I can fix all of it.

But I'm too much of a coward.

I sigh and move away from my desk.

I hear the door open and close from the main room. I wait and listen for the usual sounds of Magnus coming home from work. Instead, I hear a girl giggle.

Is it Isabelle?

I peek out of my room.

It's not Isabelle. Two girls walk over to the island counter, looking around. Magnus follows, some plastic grocery bags in his hands.

"Wow, your place is so nice," says the girl with brown hair. She's got a very old fashioned kind of pretty to her. She seems sweet. The other girl is a bombshell blond with an elegant flare.

"Thanks," says Magnus. "I was lucky to get it. My roommate is pretty anti-social."

"Is he home?" the brunette asks.

Magnus shrugs. "I have no idea when he's home or not. He's so quiet."

"I'm sure he's just shy," the brunette says.

"It's a little bit beyond shy," Magnus says. He walks to the other side of the counter and starts pulling out groceries. "If he shows up, I'll introduce you, Tessa. You'll see."

Tessa shrugs, "I'm sure he'll come around."

"Who wouldn't come around to you?" the blond says, voice sultry, and she has a French accent.

I realize I should stop eavesdropping and go back to trying to write my stupid letter, but I'm curious about what else they have to say about me. I'm feeling a bit hurt. But this isn't the worst I've heard. Looks like Magnus is taking it pretty personally.

Magnus smiles at the blond, "This would be the first time, Camille."

They grin at each other and I realize there's probably something between them. Maybe they're dating. Or they've at least had a fling. I'm not sure.

I don't really want to think about it. My face burns, thinking about it, and I'm not sure it's because I'm embarrassed.

I decide that it's time to stop listening. I step away from my door and flop back in my desk chair. I sigh. At least they didn't notice me eavesdropping. That would have been bad. Magnus would just have more evidence for how much of a freak I am.

I don't know what to do. I don't want Magnus to hate me. If I could waltz out there and start talking to him, I would. But I can't. It's so frustrating, my head spins.

I place my fingers down on my keyboard. It takes a few deep breaths, but then I start typing away.

When I look up from writing, it's three hours later. I've written ten pages.

* * *

_Author Note: Sorry for taking a while to update. Thanks for all the follows and favs, holy wow. And thanks for reading. It's great to hear from you guys. (:_


	5. Chapter 5 - The Letter

_Author Note: Sorry for taking forever to update, writing's been slow lately. And thank you for all the reviews and favourites and follows, I super appreciate the feedback!_

* * *

Chapter Five – The Letter

It takes a long time to edit my letter to Magnus. It was mostly a lot of rambling about how awkward and stupid I am. I cut a ton of it out, but by the end it's creeping up on midnight and I just want to go to bed.

I print it out and leave it on the counter before going to sleep. I'm too tired to worry too much, and only take it off the counter three times instead of ten. But I end up leaving it for Magnus to find.

I have trouble sleeping sometimes, but tonight I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I wake up late the next morning. My eyes feel heavy and gross from staring at a screen for so long. It takes me a while to roll out of bed.

I notice on my way to the bathroom that my letter's missing from the counter. My heart threatens to beat straight out of my chest.

_Why did I leave it out for him? I'm so stupid. Oh my god, he's going to think I'm such a freak._

I'm convinced, as I shower, that he's going to move out by the end of the day. Or he's going to keep ignoring me. I'm going to find my letter in the trash. He's going to tell his friends about how lame and stupid his roommate is. I just want to curl up in the shower and die.

I finish getting ready for work. Magnus is nowhere to be seen. The door to his room is open too, and he isn't there. I look around for my letter—maybe it fell on the floor and Magnus never saw it. I don't find it anywhere either. I even check under the couch cushions.

I leave for work, feeling shaky.

I spend my day in a bit of a worried daze. Work ticks by slowly, and I dread going home. I'm half tempted to call Jace and make plans with him. Go furniture shopping with him a few days early. But I'm too nervous to even do that.

I finish up at work and head home. Slowly.

The walk upstairs is hell. I nearly stop and turn around five times. My hands are sweating. I don't even know if Magnus is home, but I know I'm going to have to talk to him today sooner or later. I realize that he might not want to talk to me after reading all that. I think that scares me more.

I stop outside the door and try to calm down. I just end up making it worse. I feel short of breath.

I open the door, my face hot.

Magnus is sitting in one of the chairs in the den area. He looks over at me.

"You're probably never going to talk to me after you hear this," he says.

I stare at him, frozen. _Oh god, he hates me._

He grins, "I'm a cashier."

I blink. _What?_

He laughs. "See, I told you."

I'm not sure what to do, so I just stand there.

"So you've got social anxiety," Magnus leans back, draping an arm across the back of the chair.

I nod. My heart's pounding and I feel stupid that this is freaking me out so much. He's probably going to make fun of me. My ears feel hot. I'm such an idiot. This goes through my head a million times.

"I don't think I've ever met anyone with that," he says. He sounds so cool and relaxed. I'll never manage that.

I shrug.

He looks me up and down and then sighs. He's already giving up.

"Sorry," he says, "I know that in your letter you said it's hard for you to talk, but it's... weird for me. I spend time with a lot of chatterboxes."

He thinks I'm weird. I look toward my room. Maybe I should just go.

"But I want to talk to you," he says. I look back at him, blinking back stupid tears. "You seem cool. You were pretty eloquent in your letter. And I want us to get along while we're here."

I nod slowly. I want to tell him I think he's cool too, but my throat feels tight and I know I can't. I'm scared I'm going to start crying. I want to run away, because this is way too much for me all at once. But I can't duck out politely. He's looking at me expectantly.

I wish I could talk.

"Mind if we just kind of... sit? You don't have to say anything. Just... we've never really hung out. And we've been living together for nearly two weeks."

I nod. It takes a moment, but I manage to go over to the couch and sit down. I put my hands in my lap, and then feel lame, and awkwardly put them on either side of me.

Magnus smiles at me, and he reminds me of a cat.

"How are we going to do this?"

I don't really know. Are we just going to sit here and stare at each other more? That would be way too awkward... At least he's not too bad to look at. I make myself blush.

He's still smiling. "Should I just ask questions, and you nod?"

I guess that could work... I nod. He chuckles.

"Okay, you said you only can't talk to your dad, cashiers and boys," he says.

I nod. What's he getting at? I fidget. I don't remember everything I put in the letter. I hope it's not as horribly embarrassing as I think it is.

"I don't understand the cashier one. What big expectations does a cashier have?"

I shrug, my face feeling hot. It's stupid, really. It's probably the _most_ irrational thing with me. It's mostly hard because I don't want to make their day worse. No poor sales clerk should have to deal with me mumbling and taking up their time. I don't really know how to convey this to Magnus. I should have mentioned it in my letter.

"Here," he says. He stands and disappears into his room. I'm worried he won't come back. He does, though, and he's carrying a pen and a notebook. "Can you write stuff down, like the letter?"

I hesitate. Can I? It would basically be the same as speaking... But I'd have more time to think out my answers, and I can write a lot better than I can talk. I take a shaky breath and take the notebook and pen from his hands.

Magnus smiles and sits down beside me on the couch. The cushions move down under his weight and I nearly slide into him. I catch myself, and have to stop myself from hyperventilating like an idiot.

My hands shake as I write. I wonder if it's totally obvious. He doesn't get too close, but he watches me write. It almost stops me, but I power through it. I pretend that he's looking past me.

He reads my writing out loud, "'I don't want to make their job harder by accident.'"

He smiles, "Aw, that's sweet."

I look at him, startled.

"I wish all people were that considerate of us retail guys," he shrugs, "I'd appreciate some talking too, but you know..."

I blush. Part of me thinks he's patronizing me, but his smile is convincing. In fact, it's pretty hypnotizing.

"And the dad thing?"

I shrug and look away. I'm gripping the notebook pretty hard. My knuckles are white.

"Don't want to talk about it?" his voice is soft.

I peek back at him, and he's got a serious look on his face. Serious, but concerned. He looks like he understands a lot more than he should. I swallow a lump in my throat and nod.

"I won't bother you about it, don't worry," he says.

I nod and scribble "Thanks" on the notebook page.

He laughs and grins at me. "Cute."

I blush to the tips of my ears. I look at him.

He bites his lower lip, slowly release it. It's seductive, even if he doesn't realize he's doing it. Maybe I'm imagining it. He's just so attractive that anything he does could be considered seductive. Especially this close. My face feels too hot.

"And the boys thing?" he asks, his voice low.

I swallow another lump in my throat. I shrug. I feel like I'm gripping the pen so tightly it might snap in half.

"It's all expectations right?" he says.

I nod, slowly.

"What are boys expecting of you?" He looks me over and it makes my stomach feel weird. Butterflies.

I feel the cushion dip beside my leg and I glance down. His hand is between us, his little finger and the side of his hand brushing against my thigh. I look up and meet his eyes. This is getting weird... I've never done anything like this before. I've never written notes to someone. I've never talked with anyone about this stuff except for Isabelle, and even then she's mostly just guessed it.

"Shouldn't it be with girls?" he raises an eyebrow. He's biting his lip again and doing that slow release.

I pause for a moment. I shake my head.

"Oh?" he breaths, "So... you're into guys?"

I feel like a deer in headlights. I'm scared that I might be shaking. I nod, slowly.

He grins, looking at me, eyes half-lidded. No one's ever looked at me like this before.

He moves closer, shifting on to the cushion beside me. I tense up. I realize I could run away. I could stop him, if I wanted to. But I knew where this was going since he started biting his lip. I don't want to stop him.

His eyes study my face, and I'm just lost in how pretty they are. He's so exotic looking. He smells like sweet candle smoke and spices. He's close enough that I can _smell_ him. I don't think I've ever been this close to anyone before. Ever.

My heart's racing. There's a feeling in my chest—a much better one than the fluttering going on my stomach—like a warm, exciting feeling welling up. I'm breathing hard, almost panting. Our lips are so close.

He puts a hand on the back of my head, sliding his fingers into my hair.

I'm not sure if he pulls me closer or if I do it on my own, but our faces are less than a breadth away. My fingers feel buzzy.

My eyes close. Our lips press together.

I think the feeling in my chest is going to suffocate me.


	6. Chapter 6 - Heartbeat

_Author Note: Woops, sorry for being gone so long. Thanks again for all the great feedback!_

* * *

Chapter Six – Heartbeat

The next thing I know, I'm shaking and rocking back in forth. I feel like I just can't draw enough air into my lungs. My lips and throat and fingers are buzzing. I've got my arms wrapped around myself, my nails digging into my sides so hard it hurts.

I don't know where Magnus is.

_I kissed him. Oh my god I kissed him._

_My first kiss._

_And I'm messing it up._

"Alec?" Magnus' face is in front of mine. His eyes are wide. "Alec, what's happening?"

I can't breathe. I realize I'm crying. Everything just feels so distant and strange. I must be dying.

But it's not that easy. I've done _this _part before.

I'm having a stupid panic attack and Magnus is going to hate me.

"I'll call an ambulance," Magnus's hands are on my shoulders.

I shake my head furiously, still trying in vain to breathe. He's too close.

I stand up and my forehead knocks into his. I'm still buzzy but the pain in my forehead is sharp and makes my eyes water. He stumbles back, putting a hand to his face. I stare, my vision blurry. He looks at me funny, like he's about to start laughing or yelling at me. I can't tell. I just know that I have to leave and get some air.

I run to the front door and slam it behind me. I make it to the stairwell and stumble down a few flights before curling up on one of the landings. I rock some more and make raspy breaths. I try to count my breaths, but it's hard. I'm still crying. I messed up.

Eventually, the controlled breathing starts to kick in. I feel weak, and I can't hear more than my breathing. My hands are shaking and my throat hurts. But I feel less tense. The air in the stairwell is cool and the concrete feels nice on my back.

I feel high now that I'm not panicking anymore. I hiccup a laugh and rub tears out my eyes.

When I look up, I realize Magnus is standing on the landing above me, staring. He looks a bit pale, probably from shock. I want to curl up and pretend he's not there.

I've humiliated myself.

"...Are you okay?"

I shake my head. I stagger to my feet, but it's hard to keep balance with my legs feeling so weak. I have to steady myself on the wall. I feel a mix of buzziness, overwhelming euphoria, and lingering bits of dread. The nicest thing about having a panic attack is when it's over, I feel absolutely giddy. It's like hitting your face against a wall—it's so great when you stop.

I think I give a weird giggle, but I'm too concentrated on standing upright to really tell. When the buzz starts to die down, I chance a glance at Magnus. He looks concerned, I guess. Maybe weirded out.

Finally, he carefully comes toward me, moving down each stair cautiously, and I cringe back against the wall.

The hurt look on his face makes me want to throw myself down the stairs. But I don't, I just sniffle pathetically. I want to tell him sorry, or _anything._ But I can't. I'm just that awkward.

* * *

I don't sleep that night. I just stare up at the ceiling, my mind in that horrible cycle of hating myself for all the horrible things I've done, and then hating myself some more. I want to cry but I hold in the tears until they go away.

I holed up in my room after the panic attack, and I didn't even come out for dinner. Magnus must hate me. I know he hates me. I screwed up the perfectly reasonable attempt he made to be my friend. I've screwed up every attempt he's made to be friends with me. I wouldn't be surprised if he came to me tomorrow morning and said that he wanted to move out—I wouldn't blame him. I would move away from me if I could.

I toss and turn for the rest of the night, stuck between being too hot to stay under the covers, and too cold not to cuddle up in them.

It's somewhere near 4AM, and I'm deep in thought. I'm thinking about Magnus, and how nice he's been. He hasn't been perfect, sure... He gave me the cold shoulder for a bit, but it was a misunderstanding. He tried to make friends with me when we moved in. He tried to understand my anxiety stuff... He did kind of bad mouth me to his friends, but I would do the same if I was him. If I could talk to people.

I think about our kiss, and my heart speeds up. The sound of it pounds loud in my ears, and I feel like it's knocking against the inside of my chest. It feels different than the panic attack. I don't feel buzzy, just warm and... happy.

It was my first kiss. Even though I screwed it up, and probably ruined any chance I had with Magnus, it was still amazing. I can still imagine the feel of his lips on mine, soft and gentle. I could still smell him. It had felt perfect. For a second, I'd just felt overwhelmed with this warmth in my chest, and I'd forgotten being scared or anxious. But a second later, I'd started thinking of what I had to do after this. I got worried I was doing it wrong. I got worried that he was going to stop and laugh in my face, and call me a freak or a faggot. And then I just panicked and it spiralled into that mess in the stairwell.

But, as I lie here in bed, thinking about our kiss, something dawns on me.

I've never felt this way about anyone before. I don't exactly know what it means, or if I'm right about this. I've heard descriptions of it from Isabelle, and Jace, and from books and TV.

I think I'm in love.

I stare up at my ceiling and listen to the sound of my heart thumping against the inside of my ribs.

* * *

I meet with Jace and Clary after work. We drive over to a used furniture store and take a look around. I walk through the crowded isles beside Jace, ducking under wanton chair legs and stepping over coffee tables.

"What are we looking for?" I ask, voice hushed. It's hard to talk in public, but I'm with Jace. He's my best friend. I keep looking around, hoping no one's on the other side of one of the furniture stacks who can hear.

"We need a coffee pot, a night stand, a bunch of cutlery and dishes, and a lamp," Jace counts off the items on his long, perfect fingers.

I used to think I had a crush on him, but when he met Clary that dream kind of slipped away. Besides, it wouldn't have worked. Sure, he was one of the few guys I could talk to, but he was practically my brother and my best friend. It would have screwed up the relationship, and he wasn't anywhere close to gay. He was just a convenient crush.

Sometimes, I was jealous of Clary. Maybe it was because when she was around, his attention wasn't all on me. When she was new to our circle, I couldn't talk with her around and it had been frustrating. Usually now, it was just the attention thing. It was selfish and stupid, because Jace was so happy with her around. I didn't make anyone happy the way she made Jace happy. They just looked at each other and smiled. I didn't have that with anyone.

Clary is off on the other side of the store, picking out bowls and plates. She's got more of an artsy eye.

"What about this?" I mumble, stopping in front of a small table. It could work as a night stand.

Jace takes a look at it, and shakes his head. "No, it's not sturdy enough."

I wonder what he's going to be putting on his nightstand that requires it to be sturdy, but stop myself because that's gross.

He looks at me before we move on, "You okay?"

I shrug.

"You look like you didn't sleep," he says. He knows me too well.

I shrug again. I try to move past him and drop the subject. But he just falls into step beside me, agilely moving through the clutter to keep pace with me.

"Did something happen? You really look terrible," he says.

"Thanks," I grumble. I see another nightstand-looking table, "What about that one?"

"No, because I'm not done talking to you," he says smoothly, leaning against the table I pointed out. "What happened?"

I frown at him. I don't want to talk about the panic attack. I don't want to talk about how I haven't been sleeping since the stupid kiss. I don't want to tell him about my new _thing_ for my roommate. I haven't talked to Magnus since the other night. I don't know how we've managed to avoid each other for so long.

I keep walking down the aisle toward the next table.

"You can't just avoid things that make you uncomfortable, Alec," Jace sighs, chasing after me.

But I _can_ avoid things that make me uncomfortable, I've been doing it since forever.

"What happened?" he tries one more time, close on my heels, and I'm close to telling him. As much as I don't want to, it would be a bit of a relief. And he is my best friend.

I stop and turn to him. He's got his arms crossed over his chest and he lowers his head toward me—something he's gotten used to, I guess, so that I can talk quietly and he can hear me.

I open my mouth, still caught between telling him everything, or telling him to drop it. It would be easy just to say it. _I like Magnus. But I freaked him out and now he won't talk to me. _That's all I have to say.

I wet my lips and try again.

"I found the coffee pot!" Clary comes around the corner with a box in her arms, full of dishes and a coffee maker. Jace and I straighten up. She raises an eyebrow, "Am I interrupting...?"

Jace glances at me and I shrug. My face is burning.

"It's fine," Jace says, frowning. There's something in his tone that says this isn't over, but he knows I probably don't want to talk about it in front of his girlfriend. I wonder if he knows what I was going to say.

"You sure?" she says, looking between us.

I wish she'd shown up a little later. I don't know if I would have been able to say what I wanted to say, or if I even really wanted to say it. But now I _know_ I can't say it.

Jace keeps an eye on me, then nods, "It's fine. What did you find?"

They showed each other what they'd found, and she joined us for the search for the nightstand and a lamp. I trail behind them, feeling stupid and wishing I was one of them instead of me.

When we're finished, before we part ways, Jace stops me to say, "We should hang out some time, just me and you."

I nod. "When?"

We make plans for Saturday after family dinner and say goodbye. I take the subway home. When I get home, Magnus isn't around, but I didn't expect anything else.

I eat dinner alone, feeling stupid and thinking about all the words I should have said but couldn't.


End file.
